The Other Foot
by twighlitFF
Summary: Bella's a Cullen and Edward's a human... how would Twilight play out with the shoe on the other foot?
1. Oops

**I don't own Twilight and I'm so poor I'm practically homeless. No copyright infringement intended, yadda yadda yadda.**

We found out on the baseball diamond.

"Carlisle, _No_," Alice whined mid-pitch, dropping her pointed toe back to the mound and letting the ball roll out of her fingers, that familiar blank look in her ochre eyes.

Behind her, in the outfield, Carlisle sighed and his shoulders dropped. He cast his gaze downward as she whipped around to face him.

"_Why_?" Alice implored.

I straightened out of my catcher's stance and raised an eyebrow at them. Emmett stepped out of the batter's box and tapped his foot impatiently while Esme rose from the makeshift dugout and took a step forward. Rosalie harrumphed from left field and Jasper delicately kicked the bag at first base. We did the only thing we could do… wait to find out what Alice had seen Carlisle decide.

"It's for the best, Alice," my father said softly. Funny how quickly "my father" had gone from meaning Charlie to Carlisle.

The field was silent for several minutes as Alice digested Carlisle's brain and the rest of us held our figurative breaths to find out what gives. We had done this dance so many times before, it was tired. Alice always knew first, and she was incapable of keeping her mouth shut so she'd blow up the decision-maker's spot. Then we'd have to wait for the hands that changed our futures (usually Carlisle's) to find the words to express the choice to us. There was no point in trying to force it; he would have to tell us now, so we played the waiting game.

"We're going to move," Carlisle finally said.

Groans from the peanut gallery.

"I know you're all upset, but like I said, it's for the best. We need a _real_ fresh start. It was foolish to think that a few miles would be enough for a substantial new beginning for _any_ of us. We need a complete change of pace, a real commencement as a united family." He stressed the word _any_, so I knew he meant me.

"This is my fault, isn't it." It wasn't a question.

"Bella! No! Of course not." Carlisle answered emphatically.

"Oh come on, Carlisle. Yes, Bella, it is. We just got here, we're leaving already? I'm not going. This is ridiculous." Rosalie stomped her foot into the soft grass.

"I won't force you to, Rosalie, but we'll miss you dearly," Carlisle said quietly.

Rosalie scoffed loudly, arms crossed, and turned her back on him like she was a toddler.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I knew they heard me. It was quiet for a pregnant pause.

"Come off it, Rosalie," Jasper spoke firmly. I was nearly shocked. I rarely heard him speak and I'd certainly counted him as my least likely defender. "We'd do it for you – shit, girl – we've _done_ it for you, so don't act like you're so much better than her, like you're above doing a favor for your family. You know you're just gonna wind up back with us anyway so cut the crap and be supportive for once in your long-ass life," he drawled. A good Confederate upbringing made Jasper quite the southerner when he was chastising someone's behavior, it seems. It made me think about the values his mama must have instilled deep in him during his human childhood, so deep they resurfaced nearly two centuries later.

I gazed at him gratefully while simultaneously waiting for Rosalie's backlash. She smiled wickedly at him. "Anything to make sure you're not the weakest link again, eh Jasper? The chink in the armor of the Cullen family crest?" Rosalie wanted to fight. Come to think of it, Rosalie pretty much always wanted to fight, and she we good at it. But Jasper was a gentleman, through and through, and refused to spar with her.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, winking at her.

Her fists clenched up at her sides and she seethed silently, but it seemed that she was done for the day. "Where?" she bit out succinctly at Carlisle.

"Chicago," Carlisle said.

"Ugh, _why_?"

I knew she meant _why_, location wise, like "why Chicago." Little why. Big why had already been established. This was all my fault.

The short version of the story starts in the winter of 2005. My mom had recently remarried and was traveling the country with her new minor leaguer husband. The irony of my newfound skill playing baseball was not lost on me. I moved from Phoenix to Forks, Washington, to live with my dad so my mother didn't have to worry about leaving me home alone or missing Phil. Typical.

On a shopping trip to nearby Port Angeles with some newly acquired girlfriends, I wandered off on my own looking for a bookstore. Being the living catastrophe that I am, I got lost just as it was getting dark and wound up in a back alley with a drunken, would-be rapist and his loser friends. When he put his hands on my belt buckle, I uppercut him with all the strength in my body, which is not much, but I had happened to be wearing a diesel costume ring that sliced through the underside of his chin and he starting bleeding. A lot. He threw me to the street, cursing and gushing blood down the front of his dingy white t shirt. This did not sit well with his dickless lemmings, who, in their inebriated stupor saw my 5'4" 110-pound form as a threat. If it hadn't been three decades too late, I would have sworn they were on PCP. One of them, a short, greasy looking turd with beady eyes panicked, rushed forward and stabbed me, fucking _stabbed_ me, right below my heart. It then became evident that you can't just stab a bitch and continue your sexual violation of her. They must have realized that there was a whole lot of not ok going on in the moment because they split real quick after Degenerate #2 went all West Side Story on me, and I was left in dark to die alone. Atypical.

I lay there in that dirty alley, sputtering up blood from my punctured lung, and waited. It was oddly peaceful, knowing I was about to die. I closed my eyes against the pain and waited for the reaper, who, thanks to Blue Oyster Cult, I didn't fear.

When I heard her voice like wind chimes cutting through the quiet of my eminent doom, I thought it was over. The sound was high and musical, otherworldly. The reaper sent an angel for me. She was whispering fiercely to someone whose reply I could not hear.

"I smelled the blood when I stepped out of the department store, I can't believe what's been done to her. You need to get here right now, Carlisle, she doesn't have long… Minutes, if that… Well where _are_ you… When will you be here?... That's unacceptable, she's not going to last that long, you have to come do this! I've_ seen_ it Carlisle, she's ours!" I was a little pissed off. I wished my angel would have said something that I at least understood, tried to console me, or even just shut her beautiful mouth and carted me off to heaven. It was just my luck to get the crappiest angel of death ever.

"I can't… _No_, I can't…" she trailed off softly, sounding scared. I think I stopped listening then. This was the end, I could feel my heartbeats getting weaker and more infrequent. With my very last reserves of life, I opened my eyes to look at my angel.

Alice, from biology?

Oh that fucking figures. Send a high schooler to do an angel's job. Good one, God. Maybe I was actually going to hell and this was Satan's idea of a practical joke on the new guy.

Alice brought her face close to mine, distress in her deep golden eyes. "I'm sorry, Bella." She laid a soft kiss on my cheek, and then slid her brilliant, razor sharp teeth into my throat and across my carotid artery.

She might as well have doused me in kerosene and lit me on fire.

She repeated the action, sinking her mouth into my body, at my wrists, ankles, biceps and inner thighs.

That was about the time I figured out that something wicked this way comes. Angels don't bite.

When she drew her lips away from femoral artery, she looked up at me, pain contorting her perfect face. _Listen bitch_, I thought angrily, you_ bit _me_, don't act like this somehow hurts you more_.

I now knew the truth, though, how hard it must have been for her to stop herself. I certainly couldn't.

I have very few memories of how the following three days progressed, but from what I can gather it went something like this:

Alice lifted my broken body into her arms, and preemptively clamped her hand around my mouth so that seconds later, when I started shrieking in the unadulterated torture that was ripped through my veins, it would be muffled and draw less attention. She raced through the backstreets of Port Angeles and loaded my crippled form into her yellow Porsche before nearly breaking the sound barrier speeding me home. "Home" was her house just outside of Forks where she and her family lived.

When we got there, Carlisle was waiting outside. He wrenched open my door and pulled me into his embrace to bring me into the house. Alice hadn't breathed since she spoke her final words to my human self.

They waited, my family, over my screaming, writhing body for nearly 72 hours without moving. I guess it really doesn't matter what species one is of, everybody is always obsessed with newborns.

At the tail end of my miserable suffering, when the scorching acid in me was slowly replaced with feeling in my fingers and toes, I was able to hear them speak.

"It should be any minute now," Carlisle anticipated.

"Can't wait," Rosalie shot sarcastically. "Explain this to me again?"

"I don't get the _why_, only the _is_," Alice intoned cryptically. "She's family. I saw it in a vision the minute I smelled her blood on the pavement."

"I'm very proud of you Alice, you've done a wonderful job." Carlisle said.

"The chief of police's daughter? That doesn't sound wonderful. We'll never be safe, Carlisle, ever," whined Rosalie.

"I've taken care of it," Jasper said. Jasper was the most strategic person in existence, I would later learn, and they trusted his judgment. I'm not certain on what exactly it was that he did; I never asked and I never wanted to. All I knew was that there had been a burial in a tiny cemetery in town and Charlie was torn apart.

When I woke up, I was a vampire.

That was nearly four years ago.

We moved about a week after my transformation, to Aberdeen, another small town about two hours drive from Forks. Carlisle's reasoning was that it would be less traumatic for me to be in a similar climate and atmosphere, keeping me far enough away to not kill my friends and family but close enough that I could still maintain a sense of familiarity in my difficult newborn years.

Since then, I've assimilated perfectly with my new family. When I was able to accept that it was vampirism or death, this was the clear choice. I understood that there were sacrifices (I'd never see my human family again, I'd never get to blame my bad decisions on alcohol, etc.) but in a careful cost/benefit analysis, I'd realized that this was the right thing. I'd rather be a version of me in a family that I love than, you know, dirt napping in Forks for getting sassy with a molester.

Not to say that it hadn't been hard. Being a Cullen was about family, respect and value… not the all consuming bloodlust that dominated every conscious thought. Those first few months especially, woo boy. I wanted to do well, really. But the raspy burning in my throat wasn't quenched by whitetail deer and the occasional unlucky mountain lion. It felt like a punishment I didn't deserve. I did battle with my self control HOURLY aaaand I might have slipped a few times. Emmett finds this hilarious, while I, years out of my change, am a bit ashamed.

Now I had it under my thumb. Or I did, until yesterday afternoon.

The first year, we went super incognito. Mainstreaming was too dangerous, and I needed constant supervision so I didn't maim three towns a day. The entire family stayed under the radar, taking turns teaching me important lessons in leeching.

In the following two years, I stayed at home practicing my control while the other "kids" started high school. Again. As it turns out, we matriculate a lot. I felt sort of like Sloth in _The Goonies_, the dangerous monster chained in the basement, my family's dirty little secret. But this year, it was going to be different. Carlisle and Esme had publically "adopted" me over the summer, and I'd started school as a freshman to Alice and Jasper's junior and Rosalie and Emmett's senior.

School was going so well. I had actually really missed it and was glad to be back, and I was proud of how easily I resisted snapping the necks of my classmates and drinking their blood in a murderous frenzy. Too proud, maybe, or cocky was the word. On an unceremonious day in April, I threw it all away.

It had been nearly two weeks since we'd hunted, but I wasn't going to be the one to bring it up. If my siblings could take it, so could I. I was hurting though. Each pulsing heartbeat in the cafeteria was torture, the throbbing resonated through me and made venom pool in my mouth.

Jasper kicked me under that table. "Stop," he said quietly. Poor empath, he felt my pain on top of his own.

"Sorry," I whispered meekly.

"I knew we should have hunted last night," Rosalie said, too quick for human ears. "Bella can't do it, we shouldn't try to force her."

"I can so! I just… I'm learning."

"Learning faster than you, Rosalie. How long was it before you were able to go back to school?" Alice asked. Rosalie scowled at her.

I looked gratefully at Alice, the girl who saved me in every way a person can be saved. She was my greatest ally and fiercest protector, my sister from the moment her teeth crossed my neck.

Rosalie was a little different. I loved her, truly, and somewhere deep inside her she loved me too. But nothing is ever gained from Rosalie without a hard fought battle. She was ferocious and loyal and I had to prove I was a Cullen before I could really be her family.

Now I was starting the process all over again.

That awful day, shifting in my chair at the horrific discomfort my thirst provided, I watched my human classmates eat their lunch. I looked intently at a blue-eyed blonde boy who's name I never cared to learn as he struggled to cut through his tough cafeteria bagel with a plastic knife.

I lunged forward when the efforts of his sawing forced the teeth of the knife into his soft palm and several little beads of blood spotted his hand.

"Bella, no!" Alice shouted, seeing the vision mere fractions of a second before I leapt at him.

She caught my ankle and slammed me into the tile floor, which cracked on impact. Jasper pinned my shoulders to the ground as I snarled with thirst and need. I let them hold me there, because I didn't want to be a killer. Again.

A teacher rushed over to offer help and Rosalie intercepted her. "She's epileptic. Please go call my father." Rose dug her heel into my ribs and I started seizing on the ground. I had never seen a seizure and certainly never tried to impersonate one, so I hoped what I was doing looked passable.

"Hold your breath," Alice whispered and Emmett hefted me into his arms, walking us quickly to the nurse's office.

"So close," Emmett said, a subtle grin tugging at his cheek. "Maybe next time."

I turned my head into his chest and bit him on the shoulder.

"Bitch," he whispered.

I didn't quite feel like joking. I had nearly exposed my family in a room full of hundreds of teenaged witnesses. The best I could do was wait for my father to come clean up my mess.

Carlisle had showed up quickly, shooting off medical jargon and collecting my siblings and I from the office.

We did what we could to cover our asses, but it was hard to convince the school of my preexisting condition when it, well, didn't exist.

That was all it took. Suspicions were arose and now we had to leave.

So for me, Chicago it was. I wouldn't utter a single complaint considering I was the catalyst behind the move. _Add it to the list_, I thought miserably.

I owed my family so much more than I could ever repay, even in the lifetimes that stretched out ahead of me.


	2. La Bella Italia

It only took about a week. After Carlisle had made the decision, we quickly strategized a smooth exit from Aberdeen with Jasper at the helm. Again, I didn't question, I just did what I was told, and I found myself flying across the country holding Alice's hand.

"Are you scared?" she asked.

"No. Apprehensive maybe. A little sad." She nodded understandingly. Jasper threw a wave of calm at me, and I thanked him with my eyes.

It was harder than I would have thought it would be, leaving Washington. In the grand scheme of things, I had spent very little time there, a little more than four years, yet I could feel myself missing it much more than I ever missed Phoenix. Perhaps because Phoenix came to me as a dim human memory and Washington was ingrained in my faultless recall.

I had said goodbye to Charlie, though he'd never know. Leaving him was the hardest part about the move, and about my vampirism in general. I understood the reasons why I could no longer be a part of his life, but my heart still ached for the father I was only beginning to know. When I went to bid my silent farewell, it was the first time I had seen him since my transition.

Oddly enough, Rosalie accompanied me on the trip to Forks. She said she understood my longing for what I left behind in my human life. We ran through the woods from Aberdeen and it was just about twilight when we reached the small two story house that had been my home. Charlie was just getting home from work. He parked the cruiser and headed inside, but he didn't whistle like he used to.

I watched from a distance through the windows as he hung up his gun belt and turned on the TV in the living room. Charlie couldn't stand awkward silences, even with himself. My chest tightened when he walked into the kitchen, poured a bowl of cold cereal and sat down in his recliner in front of Sports Center. Cereal for dinner? I wanted so badly to drop into the unused kitchen and put together a lasagna that would turn my stomach, but I wouldn't have cared because it was for him.

Charlie, poor Charlie. So broken from his inability to save me. I found it fascinating simply to watch him run through his normal routine. I would have stayed in those woods for weeks if I could have. When it was about one AM, while I was listening to the rhythmic hitch of his breath, Rosalie gently laid a hand on my shoulder and I knew my time was up.

"Can I say goodbye?" I whispered tightly to her.

She looked pensive, worried, and then nodded once.

I scaled the wall to his bedroom and ducked in the window.

Charlie was in bed asleep, one small worry line creased between his brows. I crossed the room slowly, sat on the bed and touched his hand. He grumbled and snored a bit. Bringing my lips to his ear and clutching his fingers, I used my most delicate voice.

"Charlie, I love you. I miss you every day and I will miss you for the rest of my life."

If I hadn't had perfect senses, I wouldn't have been sure I heard what I did. He mumbled low and garbled words that were almost incoherent. "Love you, Bells."

Tears that would never fall stung the back of my eyes. I couldn't leave. I had to make this work. He was my father, he was all I had, and I needed him.

_Not true_, a little voice in my head rang, _you have a family. You have responsibilities. Leave the past behind you_.

My Jiminy Cricket was right.

I ghosted my mouth across Charlie's cheek. "I love you, Charlie. Goodbye."

I almost made it out the window before the dry and painful sobs racked through my body.

***

Rosalie carried me back. I was crippled with sorrow and unable to make the run by myself. By the time we got home I had recovered and she never made any mention of my emotional breakdown. I never brought it up either.

My mind came back to the present and the plane ride to Chicago. This had become standard practice for my family but it was the first time I was making a real move with them. I was nervous and excited to see our new house and imagine what our lives would become, but I was most apprehensive about school.

We had a while to go, of course. It was early May when we left Aberdeen so we would wait out the summer before enrolling. I thought that was probably a good thing. I needed a break before I was able to try again.

But we had already decided to keep our current scholastic standings, except for me. Rosalie was burnt out on high school and ready for a break, so she and Emmett would be starting as seniors, to give them a little more time in the area without having to endure yet another secondary education. I decided to try my hand at junior year with Alice and Jasper, and I was almost excited about it. I'd been 17 for nearly four years and I'd still yet to graduate. I thought it would be nice if Chicago had that milestone for me, something to tie me to it.

Carlisle had accepted a job at County General Hospital and Esme was excited about refurbishing the mansion we'd purchased to live in. The district? Washington Square. Carlisle winked when he told me, and I knew he'd chosen it to help me feel at home. I smiled when I thought about it. Yes, I had lost one father. But I had also gained one that loved me just the same.

There was a town car waiting for us when we arrived at O'Hare. Carlisle had all our belongings, including out cars, shipped ahead of time so we wouldn't have to travel with any baggage. This brightened my mood a little, I couldn't wait to see my precious truck.

I never thought I'd be a trucker. But I had loved my old behemoth of a Chevy and was heartbroken that I had to let it die with my human image. Carlisle insisted, and I knew he was right, it just stood out too much. Glumly, I agreed with him.

About a week later, I came home from hunting with Esme and there it was in the driveway, a big red satin bow across the top. A 2007 Chevy Silverado, America's best truck, in a brilliant, gleaming platinum color. I had never been so happy in my life, it was a thing of great beauty. I must have thanked my family for several days straight. And it was waiting for me in Chi-town. I got antsy just thinking about it on the ride home.

Our home, of course, was breath taking. Old, like us (well, some of us anyway). And it was enormous; six bedrooms each with their own bath. It grated on me a little that I finally had my very own bathroom and I couldn't even pee in it. I guess you win some and you lose some.

The summer passed very quickly. I spent most of it learning Italian from Alice who would get screechy and frustrated when I didn't conjugate verbs. Conjugation is so stupid. Everyone knows what you mean, who cares if you use the wrong form? Personally, I couldn't be bothered with one word that bent six different ways, but it really grated on Alice and she was my teacher so I was trying.

The truth was, my whole family was a shit ton smarter than me. They had spent decades, centuries even, filling 24-hour days with knowledge. In comparison, I was kind of dumb. It was really unnerving for me, so that summer, when I was not (a direct) menace to society and I had a whole lot of time to kill, I decided to tackle it one obstacle at a time. My first official move had been to learn Italian. I picked it because it was rhythmic and romantic, and I wanted to be able to understand the words in Puccini's operas. By August, I was fluent. It was a drop in the bucket to the accomplishments of my family.

When September finally rolled around, I was really confident about my self control. I interacted on a daily basis with humans in the Windy City and I had been diligent about hunting once a week. I wasn't going to push myself to discomfort, I decided to work within my limits and try not to kill people. So far, so good. I never wanted a repeat of what almost happened that fateful day in the cafeteria.

I sort of glutted myself the night before school started. So much so that my eyes were light blonde, the lightest I've ever seen on any vampire. I wasn't sorry though, it was a precaution I was comfortable with, even though it was a little gross hearing the blood sloshing in my stomach when I walked. I silently thanked the vampire gods for preventing me from gaining weight after I pigged out. Being supernatural had so many benefits.

So that morning, a Thursday, we started over. It was my second first day of school as a vampire. For my brothers and sisters of course, the number was much higher.

Our school was enormous, but I still had a class with Alice and one with Jasper, and lunch with Emmett. The day passed fairly quickly and I found myself in the cafeteria with Emmett much sooner than I anticipated.

"How's it going?" Emmett asked with a grin as we sat at a small round table on the far side of the room.

"Good! Better than good. I totally don't even want to eat these people," I said, gesturing to a stringy-haired girl with pimples who was forcing a slice of pepperoni pizza into her brace-face.

Emmett grimaced and set to tearing up the food on his plate and I took the moment to listen to the conversations happening around us.

"…and they're all like, _together_, like dating. Even though they're brothers and sisters!" a curly haired girl was whispering fiercely to her table. Oh good, the Cullen scandal begins on day one. I was hoping we wouldn't have to wait long to be fodder for the masses.

I watched in my peripheral vision as the group of "popular" kids gawked at us.

"Don't let it bug you, kid. They don't understand us and they don't want to. It's better that way," Emmett said, pushing gloppy green Jell-O with some disgusting fruit suspended in it around his plate.

I listened anyway, I couldn't help it.

"…so pale."

"They're all so… beautiful."

"The blonde one is in my history class, she's a piece of ass."

From what I understood, this was pretty standard banter when people learned of our… unique family situation.

"They're dating?" For some reason that voice stood out to me. It was smooth and even, he enunciated perfectly. I looked over to see who it belonged to. A boy with bronze colored hair, sculpted into careful disarray, was gazing at us through piercing green eyes. He was, for all intents and purposes, the most beautiful human I'd ever seen.

"No," the curly haired gossip informed him, "the big one is with the blonde one. I think she's the odd man out," she snorted, jerking her chin towards me. "My mother is a nurse at the hospital where their father is the new head of cardiology. She's been telling me this stuff all summer."

A little piece of me wanted to tell her to mind her own fucking business and palm her nose up into her brain. I also wanted to tell her about Frizz-Ease serum and how it could work wonders for her damaged cuticle; I would have seen those split ends from my table even if I didn't have perfect vision. I stared daggers at her.

"Ahh, if looks could kill," Emmett said wistfully.

"Teeth can," I suggested and he laughed and clapped me on the back. "You'll get used to it."

We parted ways shortly after, he to trigonometry and me to biology. When I walked into the room, I picked an empty lab table near the back and sat in the chair closest to the window.

It was then that the beautiful boy walked in.

_Sit by me_, I willed him silently,_ if for no other reason than so I can stare at you for an hour a day_.

I gave him my most non-threatening smile and tossed my hair over my shoulder. I do human girl SO well.

He acknowledged my (non discreet, semi embarrassing) flirting and headed over to my table.

When he was halfway there, I involuntarily dug my fingers into the wooden leg, leaving the imprint of my hand behind.

His scent, his _blood_. It was like nothing I'd ever smelled before. I needed it, there was no other choice. He was like honey and lilac and sunshine and I have never wanted anything on my lips more than what was in his veins.

And he sat right next to me, running a hand through that unbelievable hair.

I stopped breathing.

"Hello, I'm Edward Masen," he offered with a devastating smile that crinkled the corners of those vibrant green eyes.

Nice to meet you, Edward Masen.

You're magnificent. It's unfortunate that I have to kill you.

A summer's worth of Italian came racing back to me when I thought about how his blood sang to me, called out like symphony written specifically to torture me.

_La mia cantante_.

What's Italian for "I'm fucked?"


	3. A for Effort

I scowled at Edward Masen and realized he was waiting for a response.

He would not like what I had for him.

Especially considering it was mostly a violent, horrific demise that concluded with my drinking his blood in front of my classmates.

He gave me this quizzical look, like he couldn't figure out why I eye-fucked him as he walked into the room and then ice-queened him as soon as he sat down, and he turned to face the front of the room.

The seats continued to fill up as it got closer and closer to the class' starting time. I could feel his scent fanning flames in my throat and it burned all the way down into my belly. I was still holding my breath, wishing I had the kind of predatory brilliance that would make what I was about to do easier.

I could feel him looking at me from the corner of his eye. I was losing my chance to make this happen seamlessly. I needed to stay cool. To get him away from the witnesses so I could split his carotid and get down with the red stuff.

I smiled coyly at him once more, dropped my hand to his knee and squeezed it gently, as I stood and began to walk out of the room. The heat of his flesh nearly scorched me.

"North staircase," I whispered suggestively on my way past as I left the classroom. I closed my eyes hopefully at the exit.

The door didn't slam behind me.

It was because he was following.

Too easy, I smirked as I felt his eyes on my back.

My family would forgive me once more, I was certain. If they understood what he did to me, that this wasn't just a lapse in judgment. That this boy would put us at risk every minute of every day in Illinois if he was allowed to keep on living. I don't know that I could ever become accustomed to the torture he lit within me and with him alive, we would constantly be on the verge of being discovered. It was too dangerous for us, I had to kill him so that we could stay.

And we would stay. I couldn't be the cause of another move. I'd get rid of him so that he was no longer a threat (or rather, that he no longer made a threat out of me) and I would have to be really careful about disposing of Edward Masen. Maybe once I got him in the stairwell I could drag him off campus to somewhere desolate where I could kill him at my leisure.

What's desolate in Chicago?

Ugh this was going to be harder than I anticipated. Maybe I could just drain him under the stairs, pull my truck around and toss his body in the bed. I would have to crush his bones beyond the recognition of dental records and burn his corpse free of any DNA. Then I could book it to wherever I wanted to bury him and get back in time for Oprah.

Yes, that sounded ideal.

He stayed two steps behind me as we walked. "We might get detention for cutting," I said to him, saddened by my own lie. Edward Masen would never get another detention. His very breaths were numbered.

"I've always maintained that it's healthy to ditch class once in a while," he smirked, eyes on my ass.

Human males were so pathetic. Really? We just met, and you're going to blow off the first day of school on the off chance that I will touch your peen in the stairwell? I mean, I get it, I'm the perfect trap, everything about me draws them in, but so few girls would ever make this same mistake. They just have more sense… and less testosterone, I suppose.

I put a little swing in my step as we got closer to the place he would die. Turning around to face him, I smiled and pushed the door open with my back, jerking my chin into the staircase so that he would walk in first and I could strike from behind. It would be better if he didn't see it coming.

"What's your name?" he asked as he walked past me.

"Bella Cullen," a voice answered from inside the stair. It wasn't mine.

Alice._ Fuck_.

***

She was leaning against the wall shaking her head disappointedly.

"It's a little early in the school year to be acting up already, Bella," Alice said sadly. Of course she had seen what I decided and came to head me off. Fucking psychic sister.

"I can't help but notice you're not in class either, Alice."

"Yes but which one of us is the bad girl?" She stared at me and I returned the favor. Edward Masen shifted uncomfortably beside us.

"Judge not, lest ye be judged…" I shrugged.

She glowered in response. "I really don't think God will be on your side for this one, Bella."

"That was Matthew, but thanks for your input."

"Who's your friend?" Alice asked, eying my midday snack.

"Oh this is Edward. Edward was just leaving," I sighed, defeated.

Poor, confused Edward Masen. He lifted an eyebrow at me inquisitively, like '_Shouldn't you get rid of her so we can make out_?' and I shook my head once to dismiss him. He walked out the door and I turned to face the beast. She was eerily quiet.

"Let's go," she said finally. I didn't get the chance to ask where. "It was a mistake to let you try again so soon. You obviously need more time at home, learning to control yourself."

"I can control myself," I shot back angrily as she pulled at my elbow.

"Was that control that played out in my head? You, leading that boy down here to snap his damn neck, Bella? Be reasonable. Carlisle has to know about this right away so he can put in your paperwork for homeschooling. It's nothing to be ashamed of if you aren't ready, these things take time, and while you're doing so remarkably well, we can't force it on you. You need to be able to _control_," she stressed, pulling me out the emergency exit and towards the car.

I yanked my arm out of her grasp. "You don't get it Alice, it's not my control. It's him, that boy… he's toxic. I won't hurt anyone else, I swear, but I want him. I _need_ him. I'll cover it up and it will be as if he never existed, but if we continue to live here, the call of his blood will threaten to expose us every day that it keeps pumping through his veins! I'm doing this for us!" In the fresh air, away from the scent of him, even I saw the flaws in my logic. I sounded like a complete asshole and I wished I could gather up the words I had just sent into the atmosphere and cram them back into my mouth.

"Seriously?" Alice rolled her eyes.

"Ok maybe that's weak, but you have to understand me, he's unlike anyone else in the world. Has one of them ever… appealed to you? So much more than the others? Like a crème brulee beside Kozy Shack rice pudding?" Food was still my go-to analogy, even though I hadn't had any in quite some time. Not even vampirism could cure my inner fat kid. "He's different. I don't want the rest of them, I don't. It doesn't bother me to sit beside them or hear their hearts pumping heavily in gym class, but him… Come se dice, la mia cantante?"

Recognition clicked into her face and she smiled, amused. "I think I get it."

"And?" I waited for her to bestow infinite wisdom on me. The fact that my sister understood me felt like Atlas putting down the world. She knew. I wasn't just a dickhead, it was a legitimate problem and now I had someone who could help me fix it.

"And what?" she shrugged her shoulders once, "Tu hai scopato."

Conjugation flicked a light switch on in my head and I hated myself for admiring the solidarity I shared with her.

Ahh, yes.

I'm fucked.

***

I let Alice drive me home.

I wasn't necessarily sulking but I wasn't popping, locking and dropping over it either. What we had on our hands was a classic lose/lose. Carlisle could "homeschool" me all he wanted, the second anyone's attention faltered I'd be out the door and sucking the life force from the boy's neck in half a heartbeat.

It came down to the fact that I _wanted_ to. More than I wanted to protect my family, more than I wanted to preserve my humanity, and that made for a sticky situation. The driving ethic behind our way of life was to _want_ to be better, to not be monsters. And I simply wanted to kill him, more than anything in the world.

When we got to the house, I went straight upstairs and to my room, curling up under covers in the fetal position on my bed. It was cathartic for me, and I was glad I decided to have a bed, even though I didn't really need one. There was a table in the dining room too, just because we didn't use it didn't mean it wasn't still a comfort of home. Beds are always great, even if you can't sleep in them.

I listened to Alice regaling Carlisle with the day's goings-on. I imagined him nodding in understanding, his soft eyes so much kinder than I deserved. When they had finished their conversation, I heard his gentle footsteps padding up the stairs until they stopped outside my bedroom.

"Come in," I said, before he could knock, and then quickly buried my face in a down pillow. He sat down at the foot of my bed and laid a hand on my calf.

"Bella," he began.

I didn't move; a sculpture of humiliation carved into the mattress.

"Bella, look at me. Please," he put on as an afterthought.

"I can't," I mumbled into lavender Egyptian cotton.

He twisted a lock of dark hair around his finger and tucked it behind my ear. "Please, Bella." He spoke so softly, without a trace of anger or disappointment, which made me feel even worse.

Out of guilt more than anything else, because I owed him so much more than my simple compliance, I turned to face him.

"I'm sorry," I choked out on a whisper.

"I know," was all he said, squeezing the back of my leg delicately, his kind, golden eyes speaking volumes for him. He did know. He was built from the ground up out of compassion and understanding, whereas I felt like I was made only from selfishness and an obedience to the monster within me.

I was suddenly flooded with emotion and I felt like the biggest douche ever for wagering this man's confidence in me. I hated myself for even toying with the idea of disappointing him once more.

Carlisle loved wholly and unconditionally, giving me the kind of pure and unfiltered love and devotion only a father could deliver, accepting all my flaws and misgivings as part of the package and I was an epic dill hole for how I repaid him.

This scene, so seemingly inconsequential in the grand scheme of my endless life, was the game changer.

It didn't involve an exchange of many words or shared feelings, it did not include explanations or excuses, but somehow it communicated to me the depth of my relationship to my father, and it was something that I wouldn't give up for anything in the world.

Because if I killed the boy, he would forgive me, of course. That was part of the "unconditional love" thing. But if I made the conscious choice to betray him, I would no longer deserve it, and that was not something I could toss down the pisser. I was given a second chance at a life by this man, by the family he created, and I never wanted to make him regret it.

"I'll make you proud," I said quietly.

He smiled, nodded once, and left.

I meant what I said and I said what I meant, a vampire's faithful, 100%.

***

Alice and I sat in the car, unmoving, in the school parking lot the next morning.

"You're going to do great," Alice said with confidence, squeezing my hand.

"At least one of us is sure," I countered glumly.

"I'm betting on Alice," she answered with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk.

I sighed and stepped out of the car, the wind immediately whipping my hair around my face. We walked silently, side by side, towards the building.

"Maybe we should have waited longer than a day," I suggested, lifting my eyes from the ground and to hers.

"Nope," she said simply, lacing her fingers into mine.

"Alice, I want to go home," I tried again, slowing my pace and turning my head wistfully back to our parking spot.

She clenched her teeth and put herself in front of me. "Enough. You're being a crybaby and I'm over it. Yes, it's going to be hard. It might be the most difficult experience you ever endure, but you have to do it, Bella. You can't spend the rest of your long-ass life avoiding the trials that will inevitably turn up along the way. What if it happens again, 100 years from now? Don't you want to_ know_ that you can do it? That you truly aren't wicked, that there's a part of you inside that is still human enough to feel compassion and respect for intelligent life? You might be 18 forever, Bella, but eventually you're still going to have to grow up."

She looked at me expectantly. I knew she was right, of course. Everyone in my family was always right. Except me.

"Ok," I said, feeling resolve steel somewhere in my insides, "I'll try."

Alice smiled serenely and fell back into step next to me. "Do, or do not. There is no try."

She's quoting Yoda, and I'm the one who needs to grow up?

***

I smelled him walking down the hallway long before his tall, sinewy frame filled the doorway. I was glad I had stopped breathing when I first scented him, because the sight of Edward Masen damn near knocked the wind out of me. Again.

His torturous fragrance was tickling the insides of my nose and burning down my throat even after I stopped moving air in and out of my lungs. He loped over to the lab table we shared in long strides and hesitated for a beat before pulling out the chair beside me.

I stared studiously at the chalkboard at the front of the room without so much as a nod in his direction. He sat. I felt his eyes boring into me as I continued to actively ignore him.

"Bella?" his smooth voice wrapped around my name and I balked at the conflicting feelings that surfaced in me. I liked hearing him say my name, the way it rolled off his lips. I would have liked more to have his hot, rich blood racing out of his capillaries and across _my_ lips.

Oops.

I swallowed the venom that pooled on my tongue and closed my eyes to quiet the monster who was threatening to rip through my body and demolish the boy who sat next to me.

I would have to look at him, eventually. If I was going to pass as a human I would have to display some semblance of basic human courtesy, which, unfortunately, includes acknowledging when someone speaks your name. Regardless of whether or not you want to savagely consume his or her blood.

Turning my head slowly, unnaturally slowly, I tried to give myself a pep talk about what was about to go on. I failed. The monster laughed.

He had this beautifully amused half-smile pulling at the corner of his face when I finally met his gaze.

"You ok?" he asked, half-placating.

I nodded curtly and turned my attention back to the front of the room… where nothing was happening. Can a bitch get a break? My kind might be easily distracted but we need _something_ to work with.

He continued as if I hadn't just blown him off entirely. "That girl in the staircase yesterday, she's your sister right? Did you get in trouble for trying to cut?"

"More like trying to bite," I mumbled under my breath, too low for him to hear. Oh good job, asshole. I had just used up the only air in my lungs to make an unimportant bitchy comment to myself. Now if I was going to speak to him I'd have to take a breath and it was going to be inordinately painful.

I opened my mouth slightly to let the Edward-poisoned air leak in. I tasted him on my tongue, fragrant and delectable. Imagining my pride and my father's confidence in me like a bubble swelling up in my belly to combat the ache that breathing would surely bestow on me, I allowed the sinfully aromatic oxygen to slide into my trachea.

It was bad. As bad as I had thought it was would be. But I was doing it, and that made me happy.

"No, but it was a close call," I answered. Bracing myself, I took in another quiet breath that burned like acid all the way down. From now on I was going to make my responses count, since I was working so damn hard for them.

"She seems like a tough cookie, you probably don't get away with anything."

I shrugged. Wasting air on this bullshit small talk was so entirely beneath me at this point but it wasn't like I could just pretend I didn't hear him. I prayed silently for the class to begin so I could put my mind anywhere but the deep dark recesses of his veins.

"How did she know you were going to be in the north stairwell anyway?" he asked.

I tried to fight down a smile and failed. "She's psychic," I said, casting my eyes down to the notebook where I was now etching loopy designs onto a blank page.

"Do I win the lottery?"

"Only the genetic one."

The crooked smile reappeared and I admired once again the perfect planes of his face. He would, no doubt, have made the most beautiful vampire in history. Better looking than Rosalie, even. I couldn't wait to get home and tell her such so she could start shitting daggers over it.

"You think I'm pretty?" he asked, the grin deepening into his cheek.

"You're ok," I lied nonchalantly.

"You sneak off into the stairwell on the first day of school with impure intentions for just ok?" he asked incredulously.

I smiled at his playful arrogance. "What can I say, I'm a cheap trick." And also I wanted to kill you, not sculpt you, dumbass.

"I think I'm insulted."

"Don't take it personally." Every breath got a little, nearly insignificant bit easier but I was taking it like a champ and I had to resist the urge to literally pat myself on the back over it. I was talking to dinner and I was civilized about it. Can I get a woot woot?

"You might be a ho fo sho, but I certainly am not." He looked indignant.

"I respectfully disagree. You followed me," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but I think you're more than ok. In fact you might be the hottest girl in school. I am no cheap trick, lady. I'm a trick with exquisite taste. Remind me to thank her."

"Who?" I asked, confused.

"The psychic cock block. She saved me a semester's worth of undue shame and despair."

The boy had no idea that he lived and breathed on account of that cock block.

She saved him from so much more than he would ever know about.


End file.
